


The Garrison Commander's Brother

by Kerfunkulus



Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Aftermath of Violence, Asphyxiation, Dark, Explicit Language, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Period-Typical Racism, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26661760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerfunkulus/pseuds/Kerfunkulus
Summary: Dougal’s busy drowning his sorrows at an inn when he runs into an English civilian. What is he doing on MacKenzie land? Why does there seem to be something…off...about him? And why does he insist on disturbing Dougal’s drinking session?
Relationships: Alex Randall/Jonathan "Black Jack" Randall
Comments: 15
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [i_dwell_in_darkness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_dwell_in_darkness/gifts).



> This is *much* darker than I would normally go with Alex and John’s relationship, since it really did strike me as fairly sweet and innocent (in TV canon, anyway). But as we know, with Black Jack involved, anything’s possible ;-) .

Dougal Mackenzie stormed into the tavern, and flung a handful of coins down on the counter. The barman simply raised an eyebrow at him.

‘Drunk already, are ye, Dougal? Is it nae a bit early fer tha?

Dougal pursed his lips. ‘I’ll thank ye to address yer laird wi’ a tad more respect’. 

The barman pursed his lips in turn. ‘Here on the MacKenzie’s business, are ye, then? Ye shoulda said afore’. 

Dougal gritted his teeth. ‘Ale, barkeep’. 

The barman snorted. ‘Right away, _me laird_ ’. 

Dougal jumped up towards the barman, and was about to collar him, when he heard a soft voice say, ‘ _Please_ , my good man, leave him be’. 

Dougal whipped his head around. 

To his surprise, the creature who met his eyes was…very unusual indeed. Though it was clearly a man, his face and body were neither hardened by weather and exercise, nor bloated by bread and ale. However, he did not look like he had been underfed, either; at least, not recently. His face was pale, though, and there was definitely something unwholesome about his appearance. To his disdain, Dougal realised that the man, though plainly dressed, was wearing neither highland garb nor a redcoat uniform. A civilian, then, and a pathetic one, at that. 

Suddenly, as if to confirm Dougal’s assessment, the Englishman turned paler still and his breath seemed to catch in his throat. His hand shaking, he rasped painfully and drew a filthy handkerchief from his pocket, with which he hastened to cover a sudden fit of wheezing and spluttering. 

Dougal was seized with a sudden burst of glee at the Englishman’s discomfort. Bloody weaklings they all were, barely weaned, it sometimes seemed to Dougal, from their mothers’ tits. How they had ever gotten _this_ far was beyond him. 

Dougal turned towards him. 

‘Ye’d best toddle on home, my wee laddie. This isnae a place such as suits a delicate little flower like yerself’. 

Around him, the assembled company laughed appreciatively. 

The Englishman swallowed hard but, to Dougal’s surprise, made no attempt to retaliate against the insult. 

‘You must forgive my intrusion’, he said, softly. ‘Unfortunately, I am come on an urgent errand to ask for my brother’s…assistance’. 

Dougal snorted. ‘Ran out of coin fer yer milk and sweetmeats, did ye?’ The crowd guffawed once more. 

This time, the Englishman did frown, and he pressed his lips into a thin line. ‘As it happens’, he said, rather haughtily, ‘I’m hoping to take up a position as...’, here, however, he broke off into another fit of coughing. 

Dougal snorted disdainfully. ‘I canna imagine who’d take on a filthy worm like ye. _I_ wouldnae gi' ye a position wi’ _my_ household. It wouldnae be three days afore I was sick of yer coughing’. 

These words seemed to have a most profound effect upon the Englishman. Hanging his head, he whispered. ‘You may well be right. _He_ would certainly say so’. 

Dougal sighed. There really was no fun, nor honour, in tormenting such a slimy little worm. He turned back to the barkeep. ‘Another’. 

When it arrived, however, Dougal heard the Englishman’s voice once again. ‘A moment, barman, if you please’. 

The barman scowled down at him. ‘Aye?’

The Englishman gave a smile which was servile and really, Dougal noticed, almost _charming_. He grimaced with disgust once more. 

‘I was hoping’, the creature said, ‘to rent a room here tonight’. 

‘Aye’, said the barman, looking indifferent. ‘Were ye indeed? And what were ye thinkin’ ter offer in exchange?’

The Englishman told him. The barman snorted loudly in derision and shook his head. 

‘We dinna have one fer so little as tha’

The Englishman looked surprised and disappointed. ‘Really? But…’

The barman cut across him. ‘At least, there isnae one such as a _fine gentleman_ like yerself would be happy to hae’

The Englishman, smiling obsequiously once more, attempted to reply, but suddenly put his head down and spluttered a great glob of phlegm into his hand. Dougal, disgusted, rose and took a step back from him. 

Suddenly, the door creaked open on its hinges, and the entire room fell silent. There, in full military regalia, stood the Garrison Commander of Fort William himself. Although he was no longer carrying his whip, and was wearing a clean shirt, there were several unusual dark spots spattered across his otherwise impeccable red uniform. 

Blood, Dougal realised all at once, in horror. Young James Fraser’s blood. 

That afternoon, after he had dispatched a few MacKenzie men to return Laird Broch Tuarach’s body to his family, Dougal had attempted to persuade the guards to release Jamie too. Although he was indeed scheduled for release directly after his second flogging, however, the papers had to be signed off by the garrison commander himself, and that bastard was nowhere to be found. The corporal, swallowing apologetically, had said that his Captain was likely off on ‘personal business’, and would probably be busy until morning. Dougal was infuriated, but powerless. He stormed off, promising himself that he’d return to Fort William just as soon as the first light of dawn broke the next day, and _make_ the bastard sign if it was the last thing he did. 

That did not mean, however, that Dougal could not have a few wee drams in the meantime. 

Now the Captain stood haughtily in the doorway, looking as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Gazing blandly about, he took in the shock and discomfort of those around him, and his face broke into a small, self-satisfied smirk. He smirked wider still as, looking more closely, he recognised several of those who had watched the flogging that day, including Dougal himself. Just as he was opening his mouth to say something, however, his eyes fell upon the Englishman. ‘ _Alex??_ '

The Englishman looked up, and his mouth dropped open in surprise. Then his face broke into a smile, which though somewhat hesitant, seemed genuine. 

‘Johnny!’

The Captain’s lip curled, and then all of a sudden he was furious. He seemed to bethink himself, however, for he slammed the door shut and walked over to the bar. Lowering his voice, so that only those closest to him could hear, he hissed, ‘What on earth do you mean by coming to this godforsaken hole, Alex?’ Then he narrowed his eyes, and they took on a calculating look. ‘And however did you get here?’

The other bit his lip. ‘I…I wrote to an old school friend for five pounds’. 

The Captain looked more furious still. Baring his teeth, he hissed out: ‘Then I suppose the money I sent you _just this month_ was not enough? Squandered it all on whores already, have you?’

Alex swallowed hard and lowered his head. ‘I…I never got it, Johnny’. 

All at once, the Captain’s face went perfectly blank once more. Raising one finely sculpted eyebrow, he said;

‘Indeed. How very unexpected’. 

Alex pursed his lips, and said quietly, ‘Is it, Johnny?’

The Garrison Commander frowned. ‘Indeed. Well, no matter. You are here now, and I will be more than happy to make good on anything which I might…owe…you for’. 

The Englishman smiled rather grimly. ‘I’m sure you will, Johnny’. 

The Captain raised a hand and, to Dougal’s surprise, caressed the man’s cheek gently. Smoothing a thumb across his lips, he gazed down intently into the smaller man’s eyes. The Englishman - _Alex_ \- quirked his lip upwards into a small, sad smile. 

The barman raised his eyebrows meaningfully at Dougal. At that moment, however, _Alex_ broke in another fit of coughing, so violently this time that he stumbled backwards and, doubled over, reached out blindly for the edge of the bar to steady himself. The Captain, like lightening, sprang towards him and caught him around the waist. The Englishman leaned forwards and, still wheezing and gasping, rested his head upon the other’s shoulder. 

Dougal gave a snort of disgust, turned around, and left the inn. _He_ had a bonny lass or two to look in on before the night was done.


	2. Chapter 2

Alexander Randall awoke slowly. He knew that he had been travelling through Scotland, and why, but the previous few days were lost in a blur of hazy, indistinct images. Could he have fallen into a fever without knowing it? 

Looking about him, however, he saw that the all-too-familiar signs of the sickroom - the pitcher, the basin, the linens – were absent. It was a good room, however, and smelled as though it had been cleaned not long ago. Nonetheless, Alexander was alarmed to find that he still could not recall anything about how he had ended up there. 

Then he realised there was a hand pressed lightly against his bare thigh. He tried to move away. 

‘Shh, shh, shh’, crooned an all too familiar voice into his ear. ‘Be a good boy and go back to sleep’. 

Alex sat up with a start. Then he noticed the laudanum on the bedside table. Furious, he turned to face his brother. 

‘Johnny! Not this again! How could you?’

John’s upper lip curled, but his voice was low and gentle as he replied; 

‘What else was I to do, Alex? Perhaps you have forgotten how much your chest was paining you last night? Remember what the physician said would happen if you continued wheezing for too long? I simply could not allow it. You _needed_ to sleep’. 

Alex was unimpressed. ‘You know very well, Johnny, that I have no _need_ to let a wheezing fit continue. That’s what the tinctures are for’. 

John moved away a little. Raising his eyebrow slightly, he said, ‘Indeed. And how well did that work for you yesterday?’

Through gritted teeth, Alex replied, ‘I finished the last of them at Edinburgh’. 

John cocked his head at him. ‘Indeed. How unfortunate. I don’t suppose you will be able to get any more in this god-forsaken place. You really should never have come here’. 

Furiously, Alex hissed, ‘I would not be here at all if -’, here he coughed, painfully, once more. 

Suddenly, John was all concern again. Draping an arm around his shoulders, he pulled him down to lie against him. ‘Hush, Alex. I know you’ve had a most trying journey, but I am here now. And I know what works best for you, what has always worked best. You’ll feel so much better soon’. 

Alex knew there was some truth to that. The only thing which had ever soothed his wheezing, apart from his newly discovered tinctures, was this; his brother patting and rubbing his back. Perhaps if he allowed it for a few minutes, he could recover enough in order to…

‘Johnny!’

Behind him, his brother chuckled low into his ear, and clamped his arms more tightly around him. ‘Oh Alex. Stop playing the virgin, will you? You know full well that you cannot blame a man for _that_ ’.

Alex sighed in exasperation. ‘As if blaming you for _anything_ ever worked’. 

Johnny chuckled again. ‘You know me too well, Alex’. 

Lowering his voice to less than a whisper, Alex hissed under his breath, ‘Yes, far too well’. 

His brother, however, heard it. All at once, he released him, and sprang up from the bed. Alex tried to do likewise, but sank back down as his breath caught, painfully, in his throat. 

‘Very well’, hissed John, who had already removed his nightshirt and was now reaching for his breeches. ‘We’ll see how you get along on your own in this god-forsaken little dump, then’. 

By the time Alex had recovered from his wheezing fit, Johnny was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

When Alex finally made it downstairs, he was very relieved to find Johnny still there, sitting alone in the otherwise empty room. He noted with concern, however, that his brother had an opened bottle in front of him. Johnny rarely drank, but when he did, it generally did not end well. Furthermore, Alex knew that whatever his brother’s position here, they were in hostile territory. Should he get into a fight, it was likely that someone would end up dead – and it probably wouldn’t be Johnny. 

Alex therefore shelved his earlier anger, and ducking his head slightly, assumed what he hoped was a convincing look of contrition. When he reached his brother’s table, the Captain jumped up and, for the first time in Alex’s life, collared him. Leaning down and bringing his face inches from his own, he hissed,

‘Have you come crawling back already, then? For someone about to take up a man’s employment, you seem surprisingly eager to hang on to your elder brother’s coat-tails’

Alex was startled. ‘How- how do you know about _that_? 

Johnny sneered at him. ‘Officers talk, little fool. Especially about men as powerful as the Duke of Sandringham. Do you have _any_ idea of the…services, I have had to render him, in order to persuade him of your unsuitability for the post? Or the risks I have had to run to gather the information he wants? And I don’t see our connection ending any time soon. I rather think that slimy old toad means to keep me in his debt forever’. 

Alex couldn’t help letting his face twist into an expression of righteous anger. ‘I never _asked_ you to interfere, Johnny. Whatever do you mean by ruining my first chance for employment in so long?’

Johnny’s lip curled. ‘You truly are a fool if you believe that I’d allow you to trot around at that disgusting old man’s heels as his own little slut’. 

Outraged, Alex hissed back at him, ‘And I suppose you think that being _your_ slut is _so_ much more enjoyable’. 

Johnny growled and shook him slightly. The hand at his neck, though, did not tighten. Of course not. Johnny never _hurt_ him, after all – at least, not physically. Instead, he began to stroke him gently just below his adam’s apple. With his other hand, he reached over and caressed two fingers against Alex’s lips. ‘I believe you may need a reminder of precisely _who_ it is that you belong to. Open.’ 

Alex, flushing with shame, realised that the barman had entered the room, and was staring at them from a few tables away. He pressed his lips together. ‘Johnny, _please._ ’, he ground out miserably. ‘Not here.’

In a flash, the hand on his neck was gone and was replaced by strong fingers prising open his jaw. Then the other set of fingers pushed past his lips and into his mouth. 

‘Wherever I say, Alex’, the voice hissed furiously, ‘and whenever I wish’. The insistent fingers were moving slowly about inside his mouth, as though to claim every square inch of it. Alex, feeling his breath beginning to hitch in his throat, exhaled shakily and slackened his jaw. ‘That’s better’, murmured his brother, the soft croon scorching Alex’s ears. ‘There’s my good boy. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?’ The fingers moved, slowly and carefully, over to the back of his tongue, while a soft pair of lips came down to nip and suck at his chin. The unfamiliar stench of whiskey cloyed in Alex’s nostrils. ‘That’s it, little slut. Show me you’re mine’. 

The barman was still staring at them. Now, however, he looked horrified and almost… sympathetic. Alex, who was beginning to gag, urged him with his eyes to leave the room.


	4. Chapter 4

When the Englishman came downstairs next, it was afternoon, and the inn was still almost empty. The barman, after making sure the man’s mad bastard brother was nowhere in sight, nodded towards a stool at the counter. 

‘Sit yerself down there’. 

The Englishman smiled tightly at him. ‘That’s very kind, sir, but I have no wish to trouble you. I could just…’

The barman cut across him, ‘No trouble. I suppose ye’ll be wantin’ dinner? Though’, he added, with a bitter frown, ‘I ken we dinna have anythin’ ye’ll like’. 

‘I’d be most grateful for anything you could spare’, replied the Englishman, quietly. ‘And I can assure you that, whatever it is, I’ve had worse’. 

The barman was surprised, but found that he believed him. ‘Really?’ Then, frowning, he added, ‘doesna tha’ mad bastard o’ yers even let ye eat?’

The Englishman let out a soft, choked sound which was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Then he started coughing again. The barman, rather alarmed, reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

‘Easy, lad, easy. We dinna have ter talk abou’ him if ye dinna want ter’. 

The younger man wiped off his face with his handkerchief. 

‘You are so very kind, sir. And no’, he added, looking grim, ‘my brother never took my food. I…I took his’. 

The barman was astonished. ‘I canna imagine ye doin’ _that _’. His voice softened further. ‘Ye must ha’ been just a wee bairn, then’.__

__The Englishman nodded. The barman turned, went into the kitchen, and returned a short while later with a steaming bowl of porridge large enough to feed a clan._ _


	5. Chapter 5

When Alex and Johnny next awoke together, it was morning again. 

Alex, taking a few minutes to slow and steady his breathing as he prepared to rise, watched his brother sit up and roll his shoulders back until they gave a definitive and painful ‘crack’. In spite of everything, he felt a surge of pity well up inside him. Sitting up, he said gently, 

‘Do your shoulders hurt today, Johnny?’

His brother turned to face him, his lips a tight, thin line. ‘What do _you_ think?’, he asked, sarcastically. Then he added, almost as an afterthought, 

‘I suppose I will have to return to the garrison today. I left a most troublesome prisoner behind there. It is past time that I gave him some attention’. 

Alex screwed his eyes shut in sympathy for this unknown man. Everything in him - his instincts, his knowledge of his brother, his duty as a man of the church - screamed at him to say something, to do something, anything, that might help…

…but then, he thought with endless bitterness and guilt, he never _had_ been able to discharge a man’s responsibilities. 

Not without…

‘Johnny’, he said, screwing his eyes shut again and fighting back the urge to scream. ‘Johnny, we need to talk about…money’. 

Just as he had anticipated, his brother’s eyes clouded over, and his face took on a look of laconic indifference. Smirking, he shrugged his shoulders and said lightly, 

‘Indeed. And what money would this be?’

Alex lowered his head. ‘Your money, Johnny’, he said, his voice rich with self-loathing. ‘Which you seem to have suddenly decided to stop sending me. Without’, and here he raised his head and his voice hardened slightly, ‘deigning to let me know why’. 

He had expected his brother to deny it again. However, Johnny merely shrugged and raised his eyebrows at him. ‘I think you know very well why’. 

Alex sighed. ‘Yes, I know. My…employment’. 

John nodded. ‘Indeed. And since you are about to be a man of…’, here he sneered, ‘ _independent_ means, I cannot imagine what on earth you would need _my assistance_ for’. 

Alex pressed his lips together. ‘The rent, Johnny. I’m behind with the rent. Quite considerably behind, in fact. Do you know what happens to a man who cannot fulfil his financial obligations, in that part of London? Especially if he has no connections to speak of’. 

His brother narrowed his eyes. ‘I see…and who was…’

Alex stood up, and folded his arms, wheezing from the sudden effort. He kept his voice steady, however. ‘ _No_ , Johnny. I am not going to tell you _that_. I refuse to pile yet another sin upon this sorry mess. No matter what you do to me. So’, here he swallowed hard, ‘have at it’. 

John simply stared at him, and said nothing. 

‘Go on’, persisted Alex. ‘Perhaps it _is_ past time that you gave me a good beating. I certainly feel that I have earned it, with everything that has passed between us these two days. So’ – here he paused to cough a few times, ‘have at it. I believe you’ll recall that it hurts me most at my chest, especially on the left’. 

John was staring at him in horror. ‘Alex, sweet angel…’

Alex stared him down. ‘Well…?’

‘Alex’, said John, his voice wavering in earnest, ‘Surely you know by now, surely you cannot think, that I would _ever_ hurt you? I don’t suppose that _you’ve_ forgotten…’ 

Here his lip actually quivered. However, the next moment, he seemed to collect himself somewhat. He closed his eyes briefly, and smoothed his hair back. Then he sighed, heavily. 

‘Very well, then. Just tell me how much.’

Alex hung his head. ‘Twenty…twenty pounds, Johnny’. 

John did not look angry, but he did look surprised. ‘What were you renting, Alex?’, he asked, quirking his eyebrow. ‘An entire street?’

Alex smiled slightly. ‘With the debtor’s fees…’ 

John blanched. ‘I see. Good Christ. Make it forty, then’. 

Alex blanched likewise. ‘I couldn’t…’

John cut across him. ‘Yes, you could. And you will. And you will tell me the name of the borough in question, at least. The thought of a creature like you spending even one night in debtors’ prison…’

Alex, though he knew it was unchristian, couldn’t help twisting his lip into a small smirk. ‘Some men’, he said quietly, ‘Are rather… _improved_ …by the experience’. 

Johnny broke into a familiar grin at that, one part sweetness to four parts teeth. 

‘How right you are, Alex’. 

Alex sighed. ‘I _have_ so missed you, Johnny’. Then, resignedly, he gave himself over to the first real coughing fit of the day. 

When it was over, Johnny leaned forwards and planted a kiss upon his brother’s forehead. ‘You should never have come here, Alex, as I said before. You must go somewhere more favourable to your delicate health and disposition’. 

Alex snorted. ‘Where? I suppose you mean to send me to Bath to take the waters with all the old ladies. Or…’ here he coughed again, painfully, ‘some such thing’. 

John shrugged, his face a perfect blank. ‘Done. I shall buy a house at Bath just as soon as I am able to take leave’. 

Alex smiled in renewed amusement, but then his face fell. ‘You _can’t_ be serious, Johnny. The expense…’

John shrugged, ‘I have money set aside’. 

‘ _All_ your money, Johnny’. 

John shrugged indifferently. ‘And how else am I to spend it, but on you? Besides’, he added, derisively, ‘you can say that you’re charged with the management of my country estate, or some such nonsense. Wenches love to hear that sort of thing’. 

Alex frowned and lowered his eyes. ‘You are so generous, Johnny’, he began hesitantly. ‘But I was, in fact, hoping for…’

‘What?’, his brother cut across him impatiently. 

Alex bit his lip and whispered sheepishly, ‘A…a real job and –‘ here he paused, and his tone turned fearful, ‘and in time, perhaps, a – a real home’. 

John looked down at his brother and sighed, in apparently genuine regret. His face, however, was perfectly blank once more, and his eyes glittered coldly. 

‘I know you were, Alex, but…’, here he paused and shrugged his shoulders back, ‘…I think we both know that any chance of _that_ was…squandered…many years ago. What’s done is done’.

Alex lowered his eyes once more. ‘You mustn’t blame yourself, Johnny. Or him. He didn’t know what he was doing…’

All at once, Johnny rounded on him. Leaning in close to Alex, he said, ‘Oh, but he did. And so,’ he added, ‘do I. And make no mistake’, he continued, his eyes blazing, ‘I _will_ have you well. No matter the cost. So do as I say’. 

Alex sighed heavily. ‘Just as you say, of course. You are always so very good to me, Johnny’. 

John raised his hand and stroked a stray strand of hair back behind Alex’s ear. ‘Good boy. Now’, he said, leaning in and bringing their faces closer together, ‘come back to bed’. 

Hanging his head in defeat, Alex nodded.


End file.
